


built a home (for me, for you)

by gilligankane



Series: Vanity Fest, 2018 [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: “I need help with Mum’s Mother’s Day present.”“Oh,”Vanessa breathes. “Right.”Noah shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. All of the other kids’ dads are helping them with presents for Mother’s Day."Vanessa frowns. "Noah, I'm not your-""Closest I've got. This year, at least.” He scuffs his toe against the side of the chair at the vanity. “So, will you help or not?"





	built a home (for me, for you)

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 1 of Vanity Fest - _Firsts_.
> 
>  
> 
> _The first Mother's Day._

“Charity,” Vanessa calls, hearing the front door open. She’s balancing a load of laundry on one hip, Moses’s large dump truck they’d both told him he couldn’t take upstairs in the other. The door closes softly and Vanessa huffs, her hair fluttering weakly off her face for a moment before sticking back to her forehead. “Charity,” she repeats. “Have you seen the-  _ oh _ .”

Noah’s mouth pushes into a thin line. “I knocked.”

“I’ve been upstairs picking up the-” Vanessa shakes her head. “Nevermind that. Are you looking for your mum? She’s working a shift.”

“No,” Noah says simply. “But I need her to drive me to Ryan’s later on.”

Vanessa drops the laundry bin onto the couch. “Oh. Did you leave something yesterday? I’ve not had a chance to clean up down here,” she explains, words rushing out of her mouth. She can feel them careening away like a runaway train car she just can’t catch. “Who knew that ten toddlers could create such a mess. I should have, I suppose. Johnny and Moses are just the two, but between them, they manage to make this place look like a tip. I’ll be cleaning crunchy snacks out of the cushions for-”

“Vanessa,” Noah says sharply.

Vanessa’s mouth snaps shut before she flushes in embrassment. “Right. You didn’t come here to hear about a wild night of babysitting.” She claps her hands together. “So, what can I help with?”

Noah’s hands tighten around the straps of his backpack as he looks around the room. “I need your help.”

_ He’s killed someone. He’s run someone over. He’s run Monty over. He’s been drinking and joy riding. He’s failing his classes. He’s witnessed a murder and he’s too afraid to go the police. He is the police. He’s nicking money out of the till at the pub and- _

“I need help with Mum’s Mother’s Day present.”

“Oh,” Vanessa breathes. “Right.”

Noah shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. All of the other kids’ dads are helping them with presents for Mother’s Day."

Vanessa frowns. "Noah, I'm not your-"

"Closest I've got. This year, at least.” He scuffs his toe against the side of the chair at the vanity. “So, will you help or not?"

“Course, course.” Vanessa sits down on the couch, looking imploringly at the chair Charity hasn’t managed to convince her to get rid of yet. 

He sits after a minute, his bag still on his back. It pushes him forward so that his elbows rest on his knees, his chin in his hands. “So. What do I get her?”

Vanessa purses her lips. “Not sure she needs much,” she admits. 

Noah scowls. “Then what am I supposed to get for her?”

Vanessa breathes in slowly. “I don’t know, Noah.”

“Some help you are,” he mutters.

“But...” Vanessa hesitates. “If there is something you want to  _ do _ for her, I know she’d be chuffed if you moved back home.”

“Home,” Noah repeats, his face souring. “Where’s that?”

Vanessa pulls her shoulders back, taking a chance. “Here, at Tug Ghyll, with your mum and Moses and Johnny.”

“And you,” Noah finishes. 

“And me,” Vanessa repeats. She tidies a pillow that isn’t out of place and looks at him as he takes in the living room. 

“Do you even have space?” he asks.

Vanessa nods towards the stairwell. “One whole bedroom now that Tracy’s moved in with Leyla. Your mum and I are at the top of the stairs and the boys are next to us, but the other bedroom is at the end of the hall. Bit of privacy for you.”

“I haven’t said yes,” Noah says quickly.

“I know, I know,” Vanessa rushes.  _ Don’t push too hard too fast _ , she tells herself. She takes a steadying breath. “Well, I make a fry up on Sunday mornings and your mum is in charge of tea once a week.” She snorts softly at the terror that brushes across Noah’s face. “Don’t worry, she usually orders pizza. And Ryan comes round on Saturdays, but you knew that.” 

She thinks about their makeshift family, the one they’ve stitched together piece by piece, obstacle by obstacle. The one she wasn’t sure they’d ever build together, or sustain. It was touch and go for a bit and she held on tightly to every touch, hoping to make it stay.  _ And now we have it, a proper family. A proper ‘happily ever after’.  _ She smiles at Noah. “The boys love when you come to visit. Your mum loves it. It’d be the best Mother’s Day gift you could ever, ever give her.” She lowers her voice, reaching out to touch his arm. “Give it a think, yeah? For your mum.”

“Yeah,” Noah echoes, brows furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. “I’ll think it over.”

Vanessa beams. “Great. Now, you said something about needing a ride to Ryan’s?”

Noah peers at her curiously, forehead pulled together like Charity’s is when she’s trying to feel out where she stands. “You’ll drive me?”

Vanessa shrugs a shoulder like it’s not a big deal. “Need to go into town anyway, don’t I? Need to pick something up for your mum, now that you’ve reminded me.”

Noah frowns. “But she’s not  _ your _ mum.”

Vanessa pulls her coat off the rack, her purse over her shoulder. “But she’s a mum and she’s a dead good one. She deserves to know it.”

Noah is quiet beside her as she locks up, but he follows her up the path to her car. “Thought you said she doesn’t need anything,” he mutters.

“Not from you,” Vanessa says. “All she wants for you, Noah, is to be happy and healthy and safe. That’s what all mums want for their kids.” She shifts her weight, her hip against the bonnet of her car. “And if you’re all of those things up at Home Farm, your mum will understand. She does understand,” she corrects quickly.

Noah looks away, across the lane to the Woolpack sign on the side of the building. “You think she even wants me around?”

_ Oh _ , Vanessa thinks. “Of course she does, Noah. She talks about you constantly. Noah this, Noah that.” She laughs nervously and wrings her hands together. “Let’s get on then, shall we?” She nods at the passenger’s side.

Noah is quiet. He’s quiet on the ride to Hotten and he’s quiet as she parks the car. He’s quiet as she fusses over which shop to go into and he’s quiet as he follows her through the cramped inside, trying to find the greeting cards. He’s quiet as she scans them all, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at them, disinterested.

She doesn’t need him to talk; she’s used to him lurking around, waiting for her to slip up. She can see it in his eyes when he walks into a room and she’s there, near Charity. Like a hawk, circling its prey. She’s grown quite comfortable with the judgement. She wants him to see that she’s not going anywhere.

“What do you want?” Noah asks, breaking the silence.

Vanessa looks up from the rows and rows of gaudy greeting cards. “Eh?”

Noah looks down the aisle, past Vanessa. “For Mother’s Day. What do you want?”

“Oh, Tracy and my dad usually have Johnny sign a card,” Vanessa says, picking up something with flowers. Charity would hate it. “Or scribble on, yeah.”

“No, I-” Noah cuts himself off and shakes his head at the next card Vanessa holds up. “From me.”

Vanessa puts down the card Noah dismissed. “What’s that?” 

“What do you want me to get you for Mother’s Day?” Noah asks in a single breath.

“ _ Oh _ .”

“It’s not a big deal,” Noah says, thumbing the edge of a card with a half-naked man on the front of it. “Just, you’re dating my mum, yeah? And you’re a mum.” He meets her eyes. “You said you were getting my mum something, because she’s a mum. So.”

Vanessa blinks hard, trying to clear the tears forming in her eyes. “Noah, you-”

“Don’t get soppy,” he mutters. 

A woman coming down the card aisle looks at at her funny and she wipes hastily at the wetness under her eyes. 

“Vanessa,” he scolds, stepping closer to her. His hand curls around her elbow. “I said don’t get soppy.”

“It’s you,” she accuses. She clears her throat. “Just like your mother, you are.”

“Am not.”

“It’s a compliment.” Vanessa takes a steadying breath, her hand over his. “Noah, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Noah repeats.

Vanessa feels a sob bubbling up in her throat and Noah rolls his eyes.

“ _ Don’t _ do it,” he hisses. 

The woman looks at them again and Noah scowls at her, his arm curling around Vanessa’s shoulders and moving her further towards the Father’s Day cards. “Just get it over with and tell me what you want, yeah?”

_ I want a family _ is Vanessa’s first thought.  _ I want to come home to a loud house and mucky boots at the front door. I want Charity to learn how to cook properly. I want to grow old and fat and surrounded by my boys. I want happiness _ .

Vanessa looks up, her neck aching at the angle as she finds Noah’s eyes. “I want you to want to come home,” she admits. “To Tug Ghyll. I want your mum to be happy and-”

“Me moving into that shoe box would make her happy,” Noah finishes.

“It only smells like a shoe box when you’re around,” Vanessa says, hiccuping.

Noah rolls his eyes. His arm is warm against her shoulders and he doesn’t drop it, his fingers splayed against the cotton of her jumper. He’s still holding the card with the half-naked man on it and Vanessa absently thinks that it’s the perfect card; Charity’ll have a laugh. 

“I don’t like fish fingers,” he finally says.

“You… You don’t like fish fingers,” Vanessa repeats.

“And I want my own Netflix profile,” he continues. “So that I don’t have to get Moses and Johnny’s dumb baby shows on my suggested list.”

“Netflix. Right,” Vanessa says softly.

“I sleep in on the weekends. I like bacon butties and I don’t like mushrooms because-”

“They’re slimy,” Vanessa finishes. “I know.” She eyes him carefully. “I don’t pick up laundry. You have it downstairs, I’ll do it. Otherwise, you’ll be in the same pants for a month, yeah?”

Noah shrugs. “I want a lock on my door.”

“No lock,” Vanessa says firmly. “Can’t have your mum kicking in the door when you’ve gone stroppy on us.”

Noah narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he agrees. “A sign, then. No babies allowed. And no mums.”

“Best scribble my name under there, too,” Vanessa jokes.

Noah’s nose wrinkles. “I said ‘no mums’ didn’t I?” He holds up the card in his hand, the half-naked man winking back at her. “You better pay for this. I don’t want funny looks.”

Vanessa feels like her world is spinning on its axis, Noah’s words repeating over and over in her head. It takes her a minute to register his words and he’s staring at her funny, mouth twisted in a challenge. 

_ Like Charity _ , she thinks.  _ Daring me to call him out on his admission _ . 

Instead, she blinks and swallows hard and musters up a smile. “Give over. You’ve just been staring at the girl behind the counter since we walked in,” Vanessa teases, her elbow digging into Noah’s side. “You fancy her.”

“I don’t,” Noah says, his cheeks red. He drops his arm from her shoulder and she immediately misses the warmth. He bumps into her gently as he moves past her to the register, looking at her impatiently when it takes her a moment to follow. 

Vanessa put the card down on the counter, rifling through her purse for the cash she’s sure she put in there earlier. It’s missing from the small pocket she always leaves it and she frowns, shaking her head as she looks up at Noah. “Alright, Sticky Fingers. Hand it over.” She holds out her hand. “I know you’ve taken it.”

Noah sighs, a grin pulling at his lips before he pushes his hands into his pocket, coming back up with the missing notes.

“Flaming Dingles,” Vanessa mutters.

“Your mum is smart,” the girl at the checkout says.

Noah’s cheeks burn red.

“Oh, I’m not-”

“She  _ thinks _ she is,” Noah says over her. He leans in a bit, his elbow sliding on the glass case. “When really, I also nicked her car keys.”

“Uh,  _ Noah _ ,” Vanessa scolds. She spots them in his other hand and takes them back, scowling at him. “Right. When we get home, you’re… Going to teach me how to do that,” she says.

Noah’s eyes widen. “Honest?”

Vanessa shrugs a shoulder. “Time I learned how to be a proper Dingle, yeah?” She bites down on her lip. “Might not be one in name, yet, but I’ve got a few living under my roof now. Don’t you all learn pickpocketing before walking?”

“Talking, you mean.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at him.

“Your mum is funny,” the girl says. 

Noah snorts. “She thinks she is.”

The girl smiles. “ _ You’re _ funny.”

Noah smiles, wider than Vanessa has ever seen him. 

“Noah, we best get back, yeah?” she asks, tilting her head towards the exit. 

“I’ll catch up,” he says dismissively, still smiling at the girl.

Vanessa frowns. “Noah, I don’t-”

“ _ Mum _ ,” Noah says firmly. “I’ll catch up.”

Vanessa pulls back a bit, hands up in the air. “Alright, alright. I’ll be in the car.” She pokes a finger into his shoulder. “Don’t make me come back in here and… embarrass you,” she threatens lightly. “And we’re still going to see Ryan, so…” She snaps her fingers. “Be quick.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Mums, right?” he says to the girl.

The girl leans in towards him. “She's alright, though."

“She’s alright,” Noah agrees, looking back at Vanessa for a moment. “I mean, As far as mums go.”


End file.
